


Sick without you

by Whatapun



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Jack can't cook, Pre-Fall, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 23:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15375717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatapun/pseuds/Whatapun
Summary: She wanted to attend the event but sadly she had fallen ill. Jack comes to the rescue





	Sick without you

Her lungs felt like they were trying to escape the coughing echoing through the hallways. The usual residents had vacated the area not because of the Plague that had infected her but for the annual celebration within Overwatch headquarters. She wanted to attend, her excitement for the event had been ever-rising over the last few weeks. Jack would be back in time for it, meaning she could finally see him again. But luck had never been on (Y/N)s side and this time illness was her form of karma. It started a few days ago. She had just gotten off the phone with Morrison, his talk about the celebration flooding her mind as she wondered what was planned for this year.

Her mind wanders back to the year before. It took place a few days after their first date. The butterflies still flying around in her stomach. She walked down the hallway the music already ringing in her ears as she hummed along. The tune of the old, as she liked to call it. It played during important celebrations and meetings, had done so for as long as she could remember. And as Jack would later inform her, it was from before the Omnic crisis.

She made her way to the hall, ready to have a great night.

The doors were still open, balloons and banners in different blue and orange colours hanging around the place. People crowding around the buffet, forming groups while discussing what’s been going on. Everything was full of life and seemed to reflect what she knew of Overwatch. Her eyes shot around the place, looking for the blonde hair of her dreams. She spots him near the stage, his face covered in worry. She makes her way towards him, her body pushing through the other agents. When she was near him, she stopped for a moment wondering if he even wanted to see her, especially now. Sure, they were friends, comrades in arms even before all this, but if she went to him now it would cross a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross yet. Before she could truly pull through with that thought, he had spotted her. Their eyes meeting, seemingly casting a spell on her beckoning her to him. He smiled at her, his face seemingly losing the worry for a moment. She returned his smile, her hands interlocking with his. The anxiousness previously seen in his eyes replaced with adoration.

“You’ll do great, Jack” She whispers, her voice barely audible over the crowd’s indistinct chatter. He smiles at her comment, his mind is put at ease for a bit. He pulls her closer, chin resting on her head as he breathes in her scent. The world around the two seemingly melted away, his nerves fleeing his body. Neither spoke a word, as the noise became silent their heartbeats falling into one. He takes a few deep breaths before Ana Amari takes the stage, her words pulling them to back into reality. The whole room went silent, as words of thanks and appreciation filling people’s hearts with glee. Not much was spoken in reality, but that isn’t what they want from the Captain. They were waiting for their Commander to speak.

“It is now my pleasure, as it has been for years, to welcome Commander Jack Morrison to say some words.”

She felt his body move away from her, the warmth leaving her as he walked up the stairs and onto the stage. She watched him, the way he clenched his hands in nervousness, the slight trip in his walk as the anxiety threw off his balance. The deep breath he took before he started talking. His words blur in her mind as she watches him, the way his lips move.

She feels the energy in the room change, the pride of each agent as he speaks of all the successes, the sadness over the losses in the hope for a better year. It filled her being as well, Jack always had this energy about him. It was what drew her in, what made her say yes when he asked her out. It was what made Jack Morrison commander, in more ways than one.

(Y/N)s trip down memory lane was interrupted by another coughing fit. Her throat dry, lungs burning in her chest. The sensation matching the heat that was emanating from her forehead. Her fingers trying to reach for the phone. The object just out of reach from her curled up position in the middle of the bed. She rolls to her side, her bones protesting at the movement.

Her fragile fingers dialled Ana’s number, knowing Jack would have forgotten his phone. You’d think the commander would be organised enough to remember something that simple.

“(Y/N)? Where are you?” Ana’s voice filled the room.

“Jack…”  a coughing fit interrupted her pleas.

“Oh dear…I’m so sorry but I can’t get Jack on the phone.” Ana sighs. She wishes she could help her friend but as luck may have it she was stuck. “Just…Try and make yourself some soup and I will get Jack to come to you straight after his speech, alright?”

“Thank you, Ana.” (Y/N) responds weakly. She knew this was all Ana could do. If she were to tell Jack now about her predicament he would come to her rescue, no matter the consequences. It would ruin everything.

She bids her friend goodbye, as the line goes dead. Her weakness befalling her again.

She knew Ana was right. She needed something to eat, her stomach growled at the thought, seemingly curling in on her.

Her muscles creak as she twists her way out of bed. Her feet barely touching the floor as the back still rests on a mattress.  

Her fragile fingers pushing her body up, causing her figure to hunch over, somewhat imitating the image of a sad child. Slowly she ascends from the bed, deciding to stay wrapped in her blanket. She makes her way towards the kitchen, her cape dragging along on the floor. As she crossed the threshold her body falls limp against the wall for a moment. She takes a few deep breaths, followed by a mild cough before she moves forward again. Slowly, she pulled a pot from the cupboard, setting it on the stove. She leans against the counter, her head feeling fuzzy while the room started spinning.

“Sit down. I have to sit down.” She tells herself and she slides down the wall. Her body falling asleep on the floor, a deep slumber befalling her.

Meanwhile, Jack was finishing up his speech in the hall, his mind was cloudy with worry as he wondered where (Y/N) might be. He hadn’t heard from her all day, well more Ana hadn’t heard from her yet. As he walked off stage he looked at his old friend. Her face clouded with worry, hard to hide.

“What is it?” He asks. His mind expecting the worst, in a way.

“(Y/N) called not too long ago. She’s sick…I’ll explain if anyone asks. Just get her something nice and help her.”

“Thank you, Ana.”

He smiles at his friend, while his mind wanders to his lover, wondering if she’s ok. On his way through the crowd, he thought of ways to help her, beginning and ending with the idea of soup. Sadly, the great Commander lacks skill in one aspect of life… Cooking. That task often fell on his lover, for Jack handles things like setting the table or cracking open jars. Nothing special in that regard. But now, he felt like that responsibility fell on him. He wanted to do something nice for her, but first, he had to figure out how. He walks through the crowd, his mind filled with ways he could get this done but none seemed adequate.

He was so lost in thought that his surroundings became background noise. So much so that he ran face first into his friend.

“Hallo! Jack, are you alright?”

“Reinhardt. Yes… Actually, can you maybe help me with something?”

“Of course! What do you need?”

“Do you know how to make soup?” The usually overconfident commander shyly asked.

“Ah is your Liebchen ill?” Jack nods. “Natürlich kann ich helfen. Just mix melt some butter with a cup of flour. Then add water with the brühe and vegetables and let it sit.”

“Thank you, my friend.”  
“You’re welcome.”

After wishing their farewells the two go separate ways, Reinhardt going deeper into the hall whereas Jack leaves it. Sadly luck is not on his side, for as he exits the hall, he’s greeted by one of Reyes’ new recruits, McCree.

“Howdy, Commander. Where’re you off to in such a hurry? The party has just started.”

He can smell the alcohol on his breath. The younger agents always did this during the celebration, who was he to judge…especially now.

“McCree. Let me go past.” He grumbles as McCree laughs. The man in question stumbles, as his drunken balance causes him to fall to the commander, who lets out a grunt under the sudden added weight.

“Going to see your sweetheart?” McCree’s laughing continues, the noise buzzing in his head.

“Yes. Will you let me past now?” McCree falls away from the Commander.

“Take a shot of whiskey with the Missy with me. Might help you get your stick out of your ass.” He laughs, continuing on his merry way.

Jack decides to ignore that last comment and instead makes his way towards his flat. He was going to take care of her for once… Hopefully without giving her food poisoning. His boots echoed through the hallway. His pace fast, arms swinging slightly at his sides - seemingly contradicting his pace. After a few moments, and a flight of stairs, he stands in front of what could be classified as their shared flat. He still hasn’t asked her to move in… He had planned to for months now but it never seems to be the right moment. Shaking those thoughts from his mind, he pushes in his passcode. The door slides open as the lights flicker on. He enters the nearly dead silent room. He hears her small snores rhythmically breaking the silence. Deciding against calling out for his lover, he enters the flat. Calmly, he removes his jacket and shoes, respectively putting them away at the door. He walks through the front area, around the island and into the kitchen area. He’s quick to spot her on the floor, quickly falling to his knees to check on her.

“(Y/N)? Sweetie? Wake up.” He calls to her, his hands lightly tapping her face.

“Jack?” She mumbles, her eyes opening a bit. “You’re home…Can we go to bed?” He smiles at her question, lifting her up into his arms, carrying her into their bed.

“Sleep Sweetie. I’ll wake you when food is ready.” She grumbles in response. Her body curling under the blanket, as sleep, befalls her again. Jack leaves the room, lingering at the door frame, looking back at his lover with concern. He sighs, walking into the kitchen. He leans against the counter, looking over the room. Mind wandering to his task, his hopes slowly falling as he realizes he cannot remember what to do.

Pushing himself off the counter, he walks to the front area reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out his communicator. His first instinct is to call Reinhardt and ask him about it again, but embarrassment gets the better of him. Instead, he attempts at finding a recipe online. He grabs the ingredients out of the cupboard. Constantly looking back at his device in an almost obsessive manner. His hands move slowly, as he reaches for pots and knives, melting butter and flour, frying the chicken and mixing the water and stock with the vegetables. Almost an hour later, and with kitchen messier than a bar after a fight. He grabs a spoon, seemingly the last few clean utensils in the area, tasting the mixture. A look of surprise crosses his face. It tasted good, a little salty but he knew that she wouldn’t complain. He reaches for a bowl and an extra spoon, filling it with the seemingly delicious mixture.

Cautiously he returns to the bedroom, his lover having barely moved from her original spot on the bed. Jack sets the soup onto the table next to their bed, before waking her up.

“Sweetheart” he murmurs, his hand pushing her hair out of her face. She grumbles for a moment before her eyes open. Her vision is unfocused for a moment, falling onto Jacks. “Hey, let me help you.” He pulls her up into a sitting position, reaching for the pillow she had previously occupied to put behind her. She leans towards the back, breathing in the scent of the soup.

“Smells good.” She exclaims, her speech slow and low. She hears him grab the plate and place it on her lap. “Thank you, Jack.”

“The great and mighty (Y/N) admitting that someone helped her. Never thought I’d see the day.” Jack mocks in a light-hearted manner. (Y/N) catches on to that, laughing slightly – trying to avoid a coughing fit.

**_“I’m a lucky girl. I’ll admit that”_** her voice gaining back some of its strength, as she starts to eat the soup. Eating it up in record time. “A lucky girl indeed. Maybe you should start cooking dinner.”

“Let’s not go that far, sweetheart.” He laughs, taking the empty bowl and placing it back on the side table. Moving his hand to stroke her face, her eyes fluttering slightly in response.

“Ready to sleep some more?” He questions. She nods, scooting further into the bed, leaving an open space. Jack chuckles, taking off his pants and shirt joining her. “I better not get sick because of you.” He mumbles into her hair, adding a light kiss. She mumbles something under her breath in response but passes out before Jack can ask what she said. Following her example, Jack lets sleep befall him, the world around them melting away, leaving nothing but them and the bed.


End file.
